


On the Mend

by songofhell



Series: On the Mend [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, I kept it as vague as possible, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, but it's still rated explicit to be safe, but there is rape in the second chapter, not extremely explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-16 18:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5835799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofhell/pseuds/songofhell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is relieved to see that Castiel is doing well after the events of Hell, but something about the angel seems off. Now they both have to deal with the ramifications of his choice - but will they be able to get through it? Takes place after 11x10.</p><p>This started as a one-shot called 'Wrong', but due to popular request, I have continued it, and since the original name no longer fit, I renamed it.</p><p>And after further development of the plot I have renamed it again. This fic was previously titled 'Together'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wrong

“Dean, have you heard anything from Cas?” Sam asked as his brother walked into the room. For the past few minutes he had been attempting to find anything in this book that might help them, but he couldn’t focus, his mind continually returning to Castiel.

“No, but he seemed a bit shaken up. You know it’d been a while since he’d been in on the action. He’ll come around when he’s ready.”

“Right…” Sam sighed as he closed the book and pushed it away.

“We have next to nothing in the kitchen, so I’m making a food run. Want to come with? Get your mind off things?”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll stay. I’m not really feeling up to going out.”

Dean nodded. “I’ll be back soon.”

Sam gave his brother an answering smile, then waited until he heard the door shut behind him before pulling out his phone and calling Cas.

“Helloo?” he answered after the second ring.

Sam frowned, the tone a bit unusual for the angel. “Cas? It’s Sam. Everything okay?”

“Oh yes, I’m feeling much better, actually.”

“Good. I’m glad. I’ve been worried about you.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry anymore. I’m almost to the bunker, so I’ll see you soon.”

The knowledge that Castiel would be there soon allowed a feeling of ease to spread through Sam. The angel just had that effect on him, calming him and giving him peace of mind. After he hung up, he pulled the book back over to him, studying it with more success for a few minutes until he heard footsteps echoing through the bunker. He smiled to himself as he got to his feet, starting towards the front door so that he met Castiel in the doorway to the library.

“Hey, Cas,” he greeted him.

“Hello, Sam.” His head was tilted slightly to the side, as it tended to do whenever the angel was thinking about something, and a small, almost amused smile turned up the corners of his lips. “Is Dean home?”

Sam shook his head. “He’s on a food run.”

Castiel’s smile began to grow. “Good.” He reached out, grabbing Sam by the hip with one hand, while the other reached up to twist in his hair, and pulled him down into a kiss.

Sam automatically returned the action, his hands resting on Castiel’s waist as he was pulled flush with the angel’s body. He kissed him enthusiastically for a second, until a feeling of unease formed in the pit of his stomach. Something was off. He knew Castiel’s kiss, and this was… _wrong._

He reeled back, pulling out of the angel’s grip as he regarded him with confusion and mild alarm.

Castiel (It _was_ Castiel, right? It _had_ to be!) frowned, and as much as Sam tried, he couldn’t find anything in his expression other than confusion. “Sam? Is everything alright?”

Sam shook his head slightly, trying to sort through his emotions. “Yeah, I just…” He took a deep breath. “I guess I’m still a bit shaken up from Hell.”

His boyfriend nodded, his gaze sympathetic as he placed a gentle hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I understand. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

Sam managed to force a small smile as he nodded. “I know, Cas. Thanks.”

Castiel offered a small smile as his hand moved up to cup his cheek, his thumb rubbing lightly over his skin. “I think you need a distraction. Just relax, Sam.”

He pulled him in for another kiss and Sam let him, because maybe he was just jumpy from his experience in Hell, maybe he was imagining things. But then their lips met and Sam felt like he was going to be sick. He needed to get past it, though; to at least figure out what was going on. So he forced himself to return the kiss, fighting against the nausea. No, it wasn’t just his imagination, everything about the kiss felt _wrong._ And yet… there was a trace of familiarity. And suddenly Sam realized exactly why he felt so sick.

He jerked back with more force this time, ending up several steps away as he stared, horrified, at the face he knew so well, bile rising in his throat.

“Sam…?” the angel started, with all the concern that Sam would normally expect, which made everything that much worse.

Sam vaguely registered the sound of footsteps as he doubled over, vomiting onto the floor.

“Sam!” It was Dean’s voice this time, followed by the sound of him dropping whatever he had carried in. His brother hurried over to his side, resting one hand on his back while the other grabbed his arm. “What’s wrong?” Sam couldn’t speak; he wasn’t sure if he could bear to say it. “Cas, what happened?”

“I don’t know.” His voice moved closer as he spoke. “One second he was fine, and then he was throwing up…. Here, why don’t I take him to lie down, and you can make him something to settle his stomach?”

“Good thinking.” He passed Sam off, the angel’s arms wrapping around him.

“Dean!” Sam found his voice, shouting at his brother as he struggled against the arms closing around him. “Dean, no!”

And then two fingers were pressed to his forehead and everything went black.

When Sam came to, he was in his bed, blue eyes watching him intently. He recoiled from the gaze.

“Lucifer,” he spat.

“Good work, Sammy, I knew you would see through my charade.” He chuckled as he sat down on the edge of the bed, patting Sam’s leg. “You know, I thought the highlight of all this would be getting out of the cage, but when I tapped into Castiel’s memories of you… well, that just made everything ten times better. I’ll be honest, I didn’t see that coming. And even though I knew I’d be giving myself away to you, I just had to have some fun with it.

“He really loves you, you know? He doesn’t think you really love him, though. Actually, he believes you’re with him more out of kindness than anything. It’s part of the reason he said yes – he knew he wouldn’t be missed.”

Sam tried not to listen, to just block out everything Lucifer was saying because he knew that if he let it get to him, he would just be playing into his hands. But he would always listen to that voice, and as much as he tried to convince himself that it was all lies to get a rise out of him, he knew deep down that Lucifer’s best weapon was the truth.

He swallowed thickly as he tried to keep his emotions from his face, focusing on a spot on the wall. “Where’s Dean?”

“Dead.” Lucifer laughed as Sam’s gaze snapped to him, getting exactly the response he was hoping for. “Well, I couldn’t have you telling him the truth, could I? The look on his face was priceless. I don’t know if he ever figured out that it was me.”

He smiled sweetly as he pushed himself fully onto the bed, straddling Sam’s lap. Sam didn’t have the strength to even attempt to struggle – his brother was dead and his boyfriend was possessed by Satan all because he had never told him how much he meant to him – besides, he knew that struggling would get him nowhere. He turned his head to the right, locking his eyes on the wall as he focused on keeping his tears from spilling over. He grimaced as he felt Lucifer’s hands run down his chest.

“I don’t know what’s better,” Lucifer mused as he began unbuttoning Sam’s shirt. “The things that I’m going to do to you, or the fact that Castiel will be watching himself do them.”

At that, Sam’s gaze snapped up to meet the euphoric blue eyes staring down at him. “Cas, this isn’t your fault,” he said quickly, searching the eyes for any sign of the angel he loved.

Lucifer laughed viciously. “Oh, _except,_ that I’d still be locked away if he hadn’t said yes. Dean would still be alive if he hadn’t said yes. And you and him would be able to live happily ever after _if he hadn’t said yes._ So really, it’s all his fault.”

Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Lucifer spoke again before Sam could even come up with something to say.

“Now then, let’s get this party started.”


	2. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After getting so many requests, I finally decided to continue this. But as I started writing the continuation, I realized that one more chapter would not be enough, so there will be more to come!
> 
> Please note that with this chapter, the rating has changed. I kept it as un-explicit as possible, but there is rape in this chapter.

Sam would not break. He refused. A few tears ran down his face, but he stayed resolutely silent. He would not scream; he would not cry aloud. It was the one victory that he could take away from Lucifer, and he _would_ take it.

“Surely you don’t think you can keep this up forever, Sammy,” Lucifer taunted him as he fucked him ruthlessly. “You and I both know you’re going to break eventually.”

Sam ground his teeth together as he stared up at his ceiling. He couldn’t look at him. Because even though he _knew_ it wasn’t Castiel, he couldn’t bear to see the body he thought of as his doing this to him.

“You’d think you’d _want_ to look at me – pretend I’m him,” the devil continued as though he could guess what Sam was thinking – and he normally could. He chuckled. “You know, some twisted part of him is enjoying this and he hates himself for it. But, hey, who can blame him? You feel amazing. So why not give in – feed your love’s darkest desires.”

“The second – I give in – and think of you as him – you’ll start doing worse,” he gasped, struggling to keep his voice level through the pain of the archangel pounding into him.

“Oh, Sammy, you know me so well, you’re gonna make me blush.” Suddenly the voice deepened to a familiar cadence. “Sam – I’m so sorry.”

Sam squeezed his eyes shut tight. No. _No._ It was a trick. It wasn’t him.

The angel’s thrusts slowed, became gentle, and probably would have been enjoyable if Sam wasn’t in so much pain. “Sam, please, I don’t know how long I can subdue him. I-I need you to know that I’m sorry. Please.” Castiel’s voice broke on the last word and Sam’s eyes snapped up to him, despite himself. Instantly, a hand was on his throat, cutting off oxygen, and he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the smiling face above him as the thrusts picked up again to a nearly unbearable amount of pain.

Sam tried to gasp for air, but that was a mistake. He couldn’t hold back the shout of pain as Lucifer shoved into him again.

And then he was released.

Sam blinked, disoriented at going from the white hot flare of pain to nothing. He realized the angel had withdrawn from him completely now. He was sitting beside him, staring down with wide, horrified eyes – and he was shaking.

“Cas?” Sam choked out, hardly daring to believe it.

“Sam, run,” he pleaded desperately. “Please, while you still can.”

“No,” Sam immediately refused as he pushed himself to a sitting position, trying not to visibly flinch from the pain and failing. “Not without you.”

“Sam, you don’t even know that I’m me.”

He reached up with a shaking hand to turn Castiel’s head to face him, meeting his eyes. “Yes, I do.”

Castiel closed his eyes. “I can’t hold him for much longer.”

“I don’t believe that. I know how strong you are, Cas. Cast him out.”

His gaze was met once again with the blue eyes, more broken than he had ever seen them. “I don’t think I can.”

Sam grabbed Castiel’s hand in both of his. “Well, I _know_ you can. If it’s what you want.” He _did_ say yes to him, after all.

“Yes, it’s what I want, but…” He shook his head slightly, looking down.

“I’m getting him out of you one way or another,” Sam said firmly.

Castiel’s gaze snapped up again. “No, Sam.”

“Then eject him. Cas, listen to me. I love you, and if anyone is strong enough to cast him out, it’s you. I know that beyond a shadow of a doubt. You _can_ do this.”

Castiel took a deep breath and Sam could see the determination harden his eyes. Mere moments later, there was a flash of light that Sam had to bring up a hand to shield his eyes against. Once the light faded, he slowly opened his eyes to look at the angel in front of him, who was looking at him with a sort of awe on his features.

“You good, Cas?”

He smiled softly. “I believe so.” He began to lean in for a kiss, but then seemed to think better of it and stopped, his smile fading. “Let me heal you.”

Sam nodded, forcing himself not to recoil as Castiel touched a couple fingers gently to his forehead and he felt his physical injuries healed. If only those were the worst ones. He took a deep breath, looking down. “Thanks.”

Castiel nodded gravely. “I do not understand how you could have so much faith in me after what I did.”

Sam shook his head. “You were trying to help. I know you would never hurt me.”

“But I did hurt you,” he protested vehemently. “It was my choice that allowed Lucifer to get to you, and… I was so stupid.”

“We’ve all been there, Cas. Literally, in my case. You did the best you felt you could with what you had.”

“And now Lucifer is out of the cage and you will never be able to look at me the same.”

Same looked up at him, eyes wide. “No, Cas, that’s… not true. I’m not gonna lie to you because that won’t do you any favors. Lucifer hurting me through you… yeah, that was – that was beyond painful. And that’s in my mind now, and it’s going to be hard to get past.” Castiel looked down, forlorn, but Sam pulled his chin up. “But I still love you, Cas, nothing can change that. And we _will_ get through this. Both of us. Together.”

The corners of Castiel’s lips pulled up slightly, but the smile didn’t touch his eyes. Sam knew that it was as good as he was going to get right now, so he didn’t push it. They sat in silence for a while before Sam spoke up, more to break the silence than anything. “You think Lucifer is out there looking for a new vessel?”

“I am certain of it. With any luck, it will take him some time to find one.”

He nodded. “Well, we stopped him once, we’ll stop him again.”

“I hope so.”

“We will.” He got out of bed and began pulling on clothes, trying not to think. Because there was one fact that he was trying desperately to avoid thinking about because if he did, he would break completely. And Castiel felt bad enough already, he didn’t need to see that.

“Sam…” He knew that tone of Castiel’s voice, knew what the angel was thinking, and he could already feel himself starting to shut down.

“Can we please not talk about that, Cas?” Panic flared in Sam’s voice as he spoke.

There was a moment’s hesitation. “Of course.”

Sam drew in a deep breath as he buttoned up his shirt. When he turned around, Castiel was already dressed, staring at the ground. Sam ran a hand through his hair, glancing around the room with a sudden need to get out of there. “I could use something to drink, what about you?”

Castiel nodded and followed Sam out of the room and down the hall. “Sam, wait.” He reached his hand out to his shoulder to stop him. “I’ll get it.”

Sam swallowed thickly, immediately knowing the answer to the question he had been refusing to let himself wonder. “You don’t want to go in there any more than I do.”

“No, but I deserve it.”

Sam shook his head and grabbed hold of his hand. “We’re getting through it together, remember?”

Castiel squeezed Sam’s hand. “Together.”

As they stepped forward, Sam found himself clinging to Castiel’s hand in a death grip. Maybe he shouldn’t be adding this trauma to the shitload that he was already dealing with. But would he be able to forgive himself if he didn’t? If he just ignored what had happened to Dean? After all, maybe he could save him. He’d done it before. But what would be the price this time? He could hardly think clearly through the panic raging in his head, but he walked into the kitchen anyway.

And then they were through the door and there was an angel blade pressed against Castiel’s throat. “Get the hell away from my brother,” Dean growled as Castiel’s hand fell out of Sam’s.

“Dean?” Sam gasped through the tightness in his chest.

Castiel’s eyes were as wide as Sam’s. “Dean, how are you-?”

“I didn’t say you could talk,” Dean spat furiously.

“Dean, relax,” Sam finally managed to form enough coherent thoughts to speak. “It-it’s Cas. Really Cas.”

Dean looked over at his brother before taking a step back. He kept the blade raised, though, and there was still suspicion in his eyes as he looked back at the angel. “What the hell happened earlier?”

“I…” Castiel took a deep breath. “When we were in the Cage, I said yes to Lucifer.”

Dean’s eyes grew wide. “Why the _fuck_ would you do that?”

“Dean,” Sam admonished as Castiel looked down. “He was trying to help.”

“Yeah, well, excuse me for not seeing how giving _Lucifer_ a ride back to Earth is helping.”

“He thought it was the only way to stop Amara.”

“I made a mistake,” Castiel muttered.

“No shit,” Dean snapped. “So where exactly is the devil now?”

“I don’t know…. I managed to eject him, but…”

“But he could be anywhere. Well, that’s just great.” He turned back to his brother as he stowed his angel blade. “Are you okay, Sammy?”

He only hesitated for a second. “Yeah, I’m fine.” There must have been something in his eyes, though, because when Dean turned back to Castiel, he looked murderous.

“Dean,” Castiel began hesitantly. “I remember him killing you. How are you alive?”

“No idea. The last thing I remember is you snapping my neck, and then I was waking up on the floor.”

He looked thoughtful for a few moments. “Perhaps God brought you back.”

“Yeah, right,” Dean scoffed. “Because he cares so much.”

“He has brought me back before.”

“He must have a really crap way of choosing when and how to play a part in things, then.”

“I do not disagree.”

Dean looked between the two of them and sighed. “So now we have Amara _and_ Lucifer to worry about. Awesome. Anyone else for getting drunk?”

Both Sam and Castiel nodded.

They didn’t speak much for the rest of the night – mostly all too occupied with consuming as much alcohol as they could to bother with talking. Dean went to bed first, but Sam was contemplating staying up all night to avoid the nightmares he knew he would have.

“You should get some sleep,” Castiel finally spoke up.

Sam shook his head, bringing the bottle to his lips again.

“I can help you to sleep, if that would be beneficial,” he suggested.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut against the memory of the last time that vessel had put him to sleep and he had woken up with Lucifer standing over him. “No,” the word came out harsher than he had intended, but he barely noticed.

They were both silent for a minute, before Castiel spoke softly. “You will never be able to see me without seeing him, will you?”

Sam ran a hand over his face. “I don’t know, Cas. Why don’t… Why don’t you take my room to yourself tonight? I don’t want to go in there.”

“You know I do not require sleep.”

“Then watch Netflix!” he suddenly snapped. “Or anything! Just get the hell away from me!” As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt awful. Maybe getting drunk was a bad idea. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Castiel’s face, looking instead at his lap. “I didn’t mean that,” he whispered.

“Yes, you did,” Castiel’s broken voice came from above him, telling him the angel had stood up. “And I don’t blame you.” The soft voice was followed by the sound of retreating footsteps.

“Cas!” he called after him desperately, tears streaming down his face. But he didn’t stop, and honestly, Sam wasn’t sure what he would’ve said if he had. So he just sat there, crying and drinking until sleep overtook him, plagued by the nightmares he had known he would face. Maybe the world ending wouldn’t be so bad – at least then he wouldn’t have to deal with this.


	3. Rescue

“What about Crowley?” Dean asked.

Sam looked up from the book he was looking in. “What about him?”

After Sam and Dean’s hangovers had subsided they had joined Castiel in looking for anything that might be helpful to them – not that they knew what they were looking for, but it felt good to be doing something. None of them brought up anything about the night before, and Sam and Castiel were avoiding looking at each other.

“Well, he’s not going to want Lucifer out of the cage. Maybe he can help.”

“Lucifer has him locked up,” Castiel interjected. “I do not think he will be of much help.”

 _“What?_ Where? In Hell?”

“No, he has taken up residence in Crowley’s home.”

“Well, we can get to him there,” he pointed out.

“What?” Sam demanded incredulously.

“Crowley’s one of the best allies we’ve got when it comes to Lucifer.”

“Yeah, and he’s also one of the reasons we weren’t able to kill Amara sooner. Are you seriously suggesting risking our lives for him?”

“Look, Lucifer’s looking for a new vessel, right?” He turned back to Castiel. “What are the chances he’s still looking?”

“It is possible – there are only so many that could contain him – but there is no way to know.”

“Okay, so the place might be empty.”

“Yeah, it _might_ be.” Sam looked at his brother as though he was insane. “But why would we take that risk for _Crowley?”_

“Because we might need him. He helped us last time Lucifer was out.”

“Yeah, and Lucifer didn’t have him locked up the last time he was out! And maybe you’re right, maybe we do have a window of opportunity to not get ourselves killed saving him, but he’s still not worth risking our lives over!”

“Not our lives. Mine.” He got to his feet. “I’m going alone.”

“You can’t be serious. Dean, you just came back from the dead yesterday, do you really want to risk dying again?”

“I think we need as many allies as we can get. You two keep hitting the books. I’ll be back soon.”

“No,” Castiel spoke up, rising to his feet.

Dean turned to him with eyebrows raised. “No?”

“I’m coming with you. This is my mess, and I will help clean it up. Besides, I know the layout of the place.”

“Fine, but Sam, you’re staying. In case this does end up going badly, one of us needs to be left to keep fighting.”

“You’re sure this is a good idea?” Sam pressed.

Dean shrugged. “You got any better ideas?”

Sam sighed. “Fine. Just be careful, okay? Both of you.” He met Castiel’s eyes for the first time that morning.

“I won’t let you lose your brother again,” he vowed solemnly.

“I don’t want to lose you, either.”

Something sparked in his eyes as he inclined his head in acknowledgement. “We should get going, Dean. The longer we wait, the more time Lucifer has to find a vessel.”

Sam’s stomach twisted into a knot as he watched them go. What if something did happen? What if he lost them both? What if the last real conversation he had with Castiel was telling him to get the hell away from him? He didn’t know what he would do – didn’t know if he could stand that.

“God,” he prayed softly, looking up at the ceiling. “Please. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard me before, but _please_ hear this. I know I’ve messed up. I know I’m partially to blame for Lucifer being back. If you’re going to punish someone for it, punish _me._ Not Cas. He never would have been in that position if it weren’t for me. And I know I don’t deserve anything from you, but I am begging you, _please_ don’t let them get hurt. They’re the good guys. They don’t deserve it. I do.” His head fell to his hands and he took a deep breath. Maybe this whole mess was his punishment.

* * *

 

“I’ve been holding off asking, but I have to know,” Dean spoke after several minutes of driving in silence. “What exactly happened with Sam yesterday?”

Castiel looked down at his lap. “I would rather not talk about it.”

“Well, too bad. Because Lucifer did something to him and I can tell its messed with him – more than being back in Hell with him did. So what was it?”

“Dean, Sam and I never told you, but we are – or _were,_ I am not entirely sure, anymore – dating.”

 _“What?_ You… oh. Oh _shit...”_ No wonder Sam had taken everything so hard.

“Yes. He made Sam look at my face while he was… torturing him.”

Dean looked at him out of the corner of his eyes. “How long did it go on for?”

“Only a few minutes, then I was finally able to take back control, but it was still too late. I hurt him in ways I am not even sure I can comprehend. I do not think he will ever be able to look at me again.” Castiel looked over at him. “You have every right to hate me.”

“Being pissed and hating you are two different things,” Dean said after a few seconds. “Yeah, you messed up bad, but you’re still my friend. And Sam’s a bigger person than I am – figuratively and literally – so if I can forgive you, he definitely can.”

“I appreciate it, Dean. Truly. But it is not a matter of Sam forgiving me. I know he is more than capable of that, but… I do not think our relationship will ever be the same.”

“Don’t be so sure. Sam’s a tough guy – he’s come back from a lot. I wouldn’t give up hope.”

The corners of the angel’s lips tugged up ever so slightly. “Thank you, Dean. I hope you are right.”

“So what’s the deal with the secret relationship?” he demanded.

“Sam thought it would help to avoid drama.”

“So I cause drama now?”

“He did not say that you caused it, only that you would probably either feel uncomfortable or tease him about it.”

“Oh, well, I am _definitely_ teasing him about it, once everything gets back to normal.”

The rest of the car ride passed uneventfully. A part of Dean wanted to ask more about Castiel’s relationship with his brother, but he knew that now wasn’t the best time. Besides, it’d be better to hear it from Sam. So they rode the rest of the way mostly in silence, aside from the Metallica cassette he had put on.

“I don’t suppose you’d be able to… sense if he’s here or not?” Dean asked as they approached the front door.

“No, unfortunately I cannot. Do you have a plan?”

“Course. Get Crowley and get out – kill any demons that get in our way, and hope that Lucifer isn’t here.”

“That is not as well-developed of a plan as I was hoping for.”

“Well, it’s what we’ve got. Come on.”

Castiel led him to where Crowley was being kept, and they easily killed the handful of demons they met along the way. Dean let out the breath he had been holding when the door to the throne room swung open to reveal an empty room.

“Coast is clear,” he muttered.

“He’s in there.” Castiel pointed the small cage to the left of the throne.

Dean nodded. “You stand watch here.” He walked slowly over to the cage, scanning the corners of the room as he went, just to be safe. “Crowley?” he hissed as he knelt down in front of it.

The demon’s eyes turned to face him. “Mmm?” he mumbled around the gag in his mouth and Dean was pretty sure it was meant to be his name.

“Just a sec.” He picked the lock on the cage then reached in, removing the gag.

“What are you doing here?” Crowley muttered hoarsely.

“What does it look like?” Dean demanded as he set to work freeing him from collar and chains. “Saving your ass. Figured you probably want to stop Lucifer as much as we do.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t sell it that short.” He helped Crowley climb out of the cage and get to his feet. “Thanks.” He made an effort to straighten the clothes that looked so foreign on him, then tensed, his eyes fixed on something behind Dean.

Dean glanced behind him to confirm his suspicion. “It’s okay,” he assured him. “He ejected him.”

“We should probably get out of here,” Castiel suggested, walking over to them. He turned to Crowley. “Can you teleport us out to the car?”

A moment later they were standing outside the Impala. Crowley didn’t even put up an argument before climbing into the backseat – Dean figured that he was probably more than ready to be out of there.

“How’re you doing?” Dean asked once they were on the road, glancing briefly into the back.

“Been better – could be worse. Thanks for the rescue.”

“No problem. As far as rescue missions go, it was actually a piece of cake.” He looked over at Castiel. “You want to call Sam? Let him know everything went okay?”

“It would probably be better if you called. I do not think he wants to talk to me.”

“Can’t imagine why not,” Crowley muttered from the back.

“Cas, call Sam,” Dean said firmly. “And you, leave him alone.”

“He has a right to be upset,” Castiel pointed out. “I ruined everything for him.”

“Yeah, you did,” Crowley spat.

“We get it, Crowley,” Dean snapped. “And he already feels awful, so you don’t have to make it worse.”

“If it weren’t for him-”

“Do you want me to take you back?” he challenged.

Crowley went white. “No,” he muttered, turning to look out the window.

“Good,” Dean sighed. Something told him that it was going to be a long drive home.


	4. Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I have added self-harm / self-hatred trigger warnings with the addition of this chapter. And if that doesn't tell you that this chapter has lots of angst, I will tell you now, lots of angst.

Sam snatched his phone off the table when it began ringing, glancing briefly at the caller before bringing it to his ear. “Cas?”

“I just wanted to let you know that everything went well,” the familiar voice that now caused his stomach to tighten uncomfortably greeted him. “We have Crowley and are on our way home.”

Sam breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank God. So you’re okay?”

“Yes. Both Dean and myself are perfectly fine.”

“Good.” It was a small victory, in the grand scheme of things, but Sam had learned to never take those small victories for granted. The three of them surviving till the end of the day was sometimes all they had, but it was something.

The silence dragged on for just long enough to become awkward before Castiel spoke again. “I will… let you get back to the research, then. We should be home soon.”

“Yeah… see you soon. I-” His voice broke, and he felt as though his throat had suddenly closed up, refusing to let the words out. He took a deep breath. “I love you,” he finally got out, but Castiel had already hung up.

He slammed the phone down on the table, tears in his eyes. What the hell was his problem? Why was this so difficult? It was _Cas,_ the guy who had turned his whole world around the moment he had met him. When Castiel had turned to look at him for the first time, all he could think was, _‘Holy shit, there is an angel right in front of me. Looking at me. And he’s gorgeous.’_ He had been so scared that he wouldn’t take his hand, but then he had wrapped his hand in both of his and it had been the most comforting thing in the world, until he had spoken.

A part of him had wanted to hate Castiel after that, after he had written him off at ‘the boy with the demon blood’ and planned to destroy an entire town. But there was just something about him, something that made Sam unable to stop thinking about him. When he finally realized that he was falling for an angel, his heart broke then and there. After all, there was no way that Castiel could ever return his feelings – he was an abomination.

It was a few years later that he was proven wrong, after Dean had become a demon and disappeared. He didn’t think he would ever forget that day; a bright moment at one of the darker times of his life.

_“Even if… if Dean is okay, he clearly doesn’t want to come home,” Sam muttered, running a hand over his face as he rested his elbow on the table._

_Castiel frowned at him. “You don’t know that. There is no telling what kind of situation Dean is in. But I do know that he wouldn’t voluntarily stay away without a good reason.”_

_“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Like maybe his screw-up little brother messed up a few too many times and he’s sick of it. Can’t say I blame him.”_

_“Sam, you are not a screw-up.”_

_“Really? Cause screwing up seems to be all I’m capable of doing. Maybe I should just let him go. He’s probably better off.”_

_“Sam-”_

_“You should leave, too. There’s no point in me dragging everyone down with-”_

_He was cut off as Castiel pressed his lips firmly against his. He sucked in a sharp breath, in too much shock to return the kiss before Castiel pulled away._

_“I will not leave you, Sam,” Castiel spoke fervently, his face still very close to Sam’s. “You are the most remarkable man that I have ever met, and my life would most certainly be a darker place without you in it. You are the exact opposite of a screw-up; you radiate goodness, and you make everyone better just for being in your presence. There is no denying that you have made mistakes, but you have never let your mistakes get the best of you._ You saved the world, _Sam Winchester. Dean, Bobby, and I helped, but_ you _are the one who overcame Lucifer; you are the one who made the ultimate sacrifice. I am amazed by you every single day, and consider myself to be extremely fortunate to be able to call you a friend. And all of that only covers a small portion of how amazing you truly are.”_

_Sam blinked, opening and closing his mouth while Castiel patiently waited for him to regain the ability to speak. “Why did you kiss me?” he finally asked lamely._

_“Multiple reasons. For one, I thought it was the only way I would be able to shut you up for long enough to say what needed to be said. Also, I do not like seeing you thinking negatively of yourself, and I wanted to give you some form of comfort. And lastly, I have been repressing that urge for a very long time, and was not sure how much longer I would be able to do so. I apologize if it was inappropriate.”_

_“You… you_ wanted _to kiss me?”_

_“I would not have done so if I hadn’t wanted to.”_

_“Oh…. So, you like me?” he asked tentatively, scared to hope._

_Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Of course.”_

_“I mean, in a romantic sense.”_

_“Ah. Then, no.” Sam’s expression fell. “I like you in general, but in a romantic sense, what I feel is closer to love.”_

_Sam let out a surprised huff of breath, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “I love you too, Cas.”_

It was one of Sam’s favorite memories. Not only had the man he loved confessed to loving him, but he had also taken all of Sam’s doubts about himself and refuted them as passionately as though they personally offended him. And now Castiel was the one who had messed up, and Sam could hardly speak to him, let alone comfort him.

He loved Castiel, and he honestly didn’t blame him for any of what had happened. But looking at him right now _hurt._ During his time in the Cage, Lucifer had done a lot of stuff that Sam had purposely pushed to the back of his mind because if he thought about it, he probably would end up back in a mental institution. Of course, he still had nightmares about it occasionally, but at least it wasn’t as bad as it used to be. Seeing Lucifer in Hell had brought up some of that stuff, but it could have been worse. He hadn’t done anything to him physically, not until he was out and wearing the face that he had come to associate with Castiel, with security, with comfort.

And now he couldn’t look at his boyfriend without thinking of his tormentor. But it had to get better, right? He still loved him, and he didn’t _want_ to live without him. He just currently didn’t know how to live _with_ him.

He was pulled from his thoughts as he heard the door open and shut. He quickly pulled a book over to him and began flipping through it.

“Find anything?” Dean asked as he entered the room, followed by Castiel and Crowley.

“No.” He forced himself to look over at Castiel because surely if he did it enough, he’d get used to it. But as soon as his eyes met that piercing blue, his gaze darted down.

“I don’t suppose you have anything halfway decent that I can change into?” Crowley asked hopefully, pulling uncomfortably at the Hawaiian-print shirt he was wearing.

“I think I might have some sweats and a t-shirt that’ll fit you,” Dean offered. “Actually, I want to have a word with Sam; so Cas, you wanna keep an eye on him while he looks?”

“Sure,” Castiel agreed, turning to Crowley, who was frowning at Dean.

“I can really feel the trust, squirrel.”

“Hey, we may be on the same team right now, but you’re still a demon. Don’t think I’m going to turn a blind eye, or whatever.”

“Well. There go my plans to disregard Lucifer in favor of stealing every book in this place. What will I ever do now?” He began to make his way down to hallway, to Dean’s room.

“How about shut up?” Castiel suggested, following behind him.

Sam sighed as he looked up at his brother, having a good feeling that he knew what was coming. “I’m fine, Dean,” he attempted to avert the conversation before it could start.

“Course you are.” He walked around to perch on the table beside him, pushing the book out of the way so that Sam wouldn’t be able to use it as a distraction. “And when you want to talk about it, I’ll be here. But I’m guessing you don’t.”

Sam wasn’t going to dignify that with a response. He crossed his arms over his chest as he looked up at Dean.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “So what _do_ you want to talk about?”

“Cas.” He paused a second for that to sink in, taking Sam’s confused expression as his cue to continue. “Look, before I say anything else, I think you two are perfect for each other; I really can’t think of anything better.”

“Wait… you know about Cas and me?”

“He told me. I wanted to know why you were taking things so hard, and I knew _you_ wouldn’t tell me, so-”

“So you went to Cas. Nice.” Some bitterness seeped into his voice to match his glare.

“I did what I had to do. And while I’m a little irritated at you for hiding it from me, I get it, I do. You deserved to enjoy some uncomplicated happiness with just him for a while.”

The corners of Sam’s lips curled up in a small, sad smile. Uncomplicated happiness sounded like such a foreign concept now, and he hadn’t even thought he had had it in the first place. “That’s not all you wanted to say, though.”

“No.” Dean took a deep breath. “You need to break up with him.”

Sam’s eyes grew wide. “What? No! I love him. It would break his heart, and he’s already not in a very good place right now.”

“Yeah, because he’s so worried about you. The guy’s crazy about you, and he’s obsessing over the fact that he messed things up in an irreparable way.”

“And breaking up with him will help with that?”

“Yes. You can hardly look at the guy, and yet you’re doing everything you can to preserve your relationship. You have some deeper issues you need to work out, first. You can’t fix the romantic stuff before you work out how to be in the same room with him. Things don’t work in that order, and if you try to make it, it’ll never get anywhere. So, take a break. Work out your issues first. _Then_ you can think about getting back together.”

Sam was looking down as Dean spoke because, honestly, he made some good points. He shouldn’t be trying to continue on in his relationship with Castiel as though nothing had changed. A lot had changed, and he needed to work that out before they could figure out where their relationship went from there. No matter how much he didn’t like the idea of it. He huffed out a half-laugh as he looked up at Dean. “When did you become a relationship coach?”

Dean grinned. “When you were in middle school and had a huge crush on, oh, what was her name… Emily?”

Sam laughed. “Well, thanks. I just hope I won’t hurt him too bad.”

“Just explain your reasoning. Right now he’s just worried about you, and he’ll be willing to do anything that might help.”

He nodded as he got to his feet with a sigh. “Suppose there’s no point in putting it off.”

“I’ll go make sure Crowley stays out of trouble.”

They walked down to hall to Dean’s room to find Castiel standing outside the door.

“Where’s Crowley?” Dean asked with a slight frown.

“He found your porn magazines.”

“Great,” Dean sighed. “Crowley, you had better not be jacking off in there!” he called.

Crowley stepped through the doorway wearing a pair of Dean’s old sweats and an Ozzy t-shirt, holding a copy of _Busty Asian Beauties._ “I was just looking.”

“Yeah, well, stop.” Dean jerked the magazine from his grip, leaning into his room to toss it onto the desk. “Let’s get to work.”

He led Crowley back down the hall to the library, and Castiel moved to follow them, but Sam cleared his throat. “Cas, can I, um, talk to you for a second?” He suppressed a chill at being alone in the hall with him, focusing instead on what he had to do.

“Of course, Sam.” He turned to face him, his nervousness clear in his expression.

Sam could already feel tears gathering in his eyes, so he looked down to hide the evidence of his pain. He had been in love with Castiel for years, and now he was breaking up with him. Even though he knew that Dean was right, that this was the best thing for them, he still couldn’t believe he was doing it. “I think…” He took a deep breath. “If we try to carry on like nothing has changed, we’re never going to be able to fix anything. We can’t hope to fix our relationship, when there’s deeper issues than that tearing us apart.” He had meant to continue on, but his voice cut out.

“You’re right,” Castiel agreed solemnly. “So what do you suggest we do?”

He finally managed to look up at him, a couple of tears running down his cheeks. “We need to break up. Fix the problems at the core before trying to make our relationship work.”

Castiel drew in a deep, shaky breath as he nodded, and Sam caught the look in his eyes before they darted down to avoid his gaze. He was devastated, but he had seen this coming. “I understand,” his voice was even rougher than usual, as though he was barely holding himself together.

“This… none of this changed how I feel about you, Cas,” he clarified quickly. “And I definitely don’t want this break-up to be forever. I just… don’t think we can fix things as we are now.”

Castiel nodded again. “Whenever you are ready, I will be here.” He turned away, in the opposite direction from the library. “Tell Dean that I will be out shortly. I… need a minute.”

Sam nodded as he turned to walk towards the library, only to dart into an unused bedroom. He doubted that Dean needed to be told that they’d both be along shortly – he’d figure it out.

He slid down the door, resting his back against it as he drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them – curling into a ball, making himself as small as possible like this had been his defense mechanism on bad days from a very young age, and once he had gotten so tall that it was no longer feasible to become so small, he had ignored physics and done it anyway. Of course, now that he was willing to allow himself to cry, the tears wouldn’t come. So instead his buried his head in his knees, attempting to drive all thoughts away – thoughts of Cas, of Lucifer, of how he was continuing to hurt everyone around him, how whenever he needed Castiel, he was there, but now that their positions were reversed, Sam was kicking him while he was down. He was shaking with the tears that wouldn’t come, so he wrapped his arms tighter around himself, his nails digging into his arms hard enough to draw blood. He focused on that pain instead, on the sharp punctures in his arms, the warm blood seeping over his skin. Physical pain was familiar, almost comforting, something that he knew how to deal with. So, he concentrated on that and ignored everything else.


	5. Grateful

Sam knocked on his bedroom door before he opened it, stepping hesitantly inside. It was the first time he had set foot inside his room since everything had happened; the very idea had sent his skin crawling, so he had given up the room to Castiel and found a new one for himself. But after lying in bed sleeplessly for a few hours, he just couldn’t take it anymore.

Castiel looked up in surprise, reaching for the remote to pause the show he was watching on Netflix. “Sam. Did you change your mind? About the room?”

Sam nodded slowly, stepping forward and pulling the door shut behind him. He felt uneasy, but he suppressed his fear, a skill that his dad had taught him when he was a young boy. “Yes. Not just about the room, though.”

Castiel sat up a little straighter, hope sparking in his eyes. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I…” He ran a hand through his hair nervously. “Dammit, I love you, Cas. I started falling for you the second I saw you, and when you told me that you felt the same, I couldn’t believe it was real. All the shit we’ve been through this past year, you’ve stood by me. When I didn’t have any other reason for happiness, I had you, and it was far more than I deserved. You’re everything to me, Cas. And I’ve had a lot of people taken from me in ways I couldn’t stop, but I _can_ stop this _._ I will _not_ let Lucifer take you from me, too.”

Castiel got to his feet, taking the couple of necessary steps to be within arm’s length of Sam without crowding him. “I understood your reasoning for breaking up with me. I don’t want you to feel as though you need to save me from the pain, or to think that I will give up on you. I love you too, Sam, and no amount of time apart can change that.”

“That’s not why I’m doing this. I don’t _want_ time apart. That was Dean’s idea, and it’s stupid. Can we please forget that conversation ever happened?”

He smiled. “Of course.” He brought up his hands to frame Sam’s face and brushed his lips softly against his. A thrill of fear went through Sam at the action, but he ignored it. “Whatever you need. I just… feel like you have built up so many walls against me, that I can’t reach you. So, if we do continue this, I need to know that you will let me in.”

Sam gave him a small smile. “I will, yes, of course.”

Castiel’s smile grew wider, his irises flashing red. “Thank you, Sam.”

 _Shit._ He knew the next sensation well – having your body taken over wasn’t something you forgot. He wanted to scream for help, but he couldn’t; he couldn’t so much as bat an eyelid.

 _‘It’s good to be back,’_ Lucifer’s thought echoed through his head.

Sam sat bolt upright in bed, panting and shaking, his face slick with sweat and tears. _It was just a dream, it was just a dream,_ he repeated the mantra to himself over and over again until his breathing returned to normal. He let his head thump back against the wall as his heart rate gradually slowed.

Castiel _wasn’t_ Lucifer. He _knew_ that. They were the two angels that Sam knew the best, and he was confident in his ability to tell them apart. He replayed every interaction he had had with Castiel in his head since the angel had ejected Lucifer, just to be safe. It hurt, but it erased any doubt that Lucifer was still there.

He reached over to grab his phone, harsh light penetrating the darkened room to announce that it was 4:27 a.m. Well, he had gotten more sleep than he had thought he would. He certainly wouldn’t be getting anymore, though.

He got dressed, got himself some coffee, and then dove into research.

“How long you been up?” Dean asked a few hours later as he strode into the room.

“A little while,” he muttered vaguely, turning the page.

“Hm. You hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Well, too bad. I’m gonna make breakfast, and you’re eating something. I may not be able to do anything about you sleeping, but I can at least make you eat.”

He looked up at his brother in exasperation. “Come on, Dean, I’m fine.”

“Is that the Winchester mantra I hear?” Crowley emerged from the hallway, wearing Dean’s robe.

“Funny.” Dean rolled his eyes. “You want something to eat?”

“Sure.” He shrugged, taking a seat across from Sam. “Don’t know why you’re still looking. We have what we need – or rather, I do.”

“But you won’t give it to us,” Sam pointed out without looking up. “So I’m still looking.”

“I don’t _need_ to give it to you, I _have_ the weapon, so _I_ can use it.”

“But we’re not stupid enough to let _you_ power up with a freakin’ Hand of God!” Dean protested.

They had been having this argument since the previous night, and it was going nowhere. Crowley had a Hand of God, a weapon powerful enough to kill both Lucifer and Amara. The popular consensus was that Castiel should be the one to use it, since it would kill Sam and Dean, and Crowley shouldn’t have that much power; but the demon refused to give it to them, unless he was the one to wield it.

“If we’re going to work together to bring down Lucifer and Amara, then you are going to have to start trusting me a little bit.”

“Or how ‘bout you don’t let your ego get in the way of you handing over the weapon to someone better suited to wield it,” Dean countered.

“Do you know how much work went into acquiring the rod? _Why_ would I give it up?”

“Because it’s the only way we’re going to get anywhere!” He shook his head. “Screw this, I’m going to go make breakfast.”

“Moose, listen to reason, will you?” Crowley tried once Dean had left the room.

“Listening to reason is exactly what I’m doing. That’s too much power for us to let a demon have control of.”

“You do realize that I’ve had access to it for years, yes? And what have I done with it? Kept it _safe._ Clearly, I am capable of using it responsibly.”

“I find that possibility to be unlikely,” Castiel commented as he entered the room, walking over to stand beside the table. Sam regarded him out of the corner of his eyes. Definitely Cas. “I also doubt that you value your own stubbornness over killing Lucifer.”

Crowley turned his glare on him. “I don’t have to. _You_ let out Lucifer.” He pointed at Castiel. “And _you_ let out Amara.” He directed his finger towards Sam. “And you two are willing to do anything to fix your mistakes. _Including_ letting me wield a Hand of God.”

Sam and Castiel exchanged a half-guilty, half-exasperated look, and in that moment, things were back to normal between the two of them. Then Sam turned back to Crowley. “The thing is, Crowley. It’s a Hand of _God._ Meaning, we would probably have a better chance of taking Amara out if Cas was the one using it.”

“So this is some angels are greater than demons crap?”

“It’s a _holy_ weapon. There’s no way it’ll be as powerful in the hands of a demon.”

“Yes, well, he’s not exactly the most holy of angels, is he?”

“But I’m what we’ve got,” Castiel interrupted. “Just give me the weapon, Crowley. Then we can track down Amara and I’ll kill her.”

“Wait, Amara?” Crowley’s eyes flickered to Sam to see that he was not surprised by the statement, before he returned his gaze to Castiel. “I thought we were going after Lucifer first.”

“Amara is the more pressing issue.”

“No, _Lucifer_ is-”

“You only think that because you want your throne back.”

“Of course I do! And then I will have all the power of Hell behind me when we go after Amara.”

“Don’t pretend that your motives are honorable. They are, as always, completely selfish.”

Crowley sighed. “Look, we have a better chance of tracking down where _Lucifer_ is. There’s no telling how long it will take to find Amara, and there is no point wasting that time.”

“Except that Lucifer might kill her first,” Sam said softly, saying the words that he didn’t want to so much as think. Because as much as he wanted Lucifer gone from the Earth as soon as they could possibly manage it, Castiel had let him out for a reason.

 _“What?”_ Crowley’s head whipped back to Sam.

“Cas…” He hesitantly looked up at the angel. “Was Lucifer really going to take down Amara?”

Castiel nodded. “He doesn’t know how to do so on his own, but he’s looking. He did think briefly that a Hand of God would do the trick, but he believes them to be destroyed.”

Sam worried his lip as he thought that over, not at all wanting to entertain the idea he was formulating, but he knew that he had to. “Would he have a better chance of killing her with one than you would?”

“It would make sense, as he is an archangel,” he confirmed with a slight frown.

 _“No,”_ Crowley snapped, his expression furious. “There is no way I’m handing it over to _him.”_

“That’s not what we’re saying,” Sam interjected.

“Oh, really? Because that’s what it sounds like.”

Dean reentered the room with a tray of food, his eyes darting around to each of their faces. “What’d I miss?” he asked cautiously as he set the tray down on the table.

“Nothing much,” Crowley immediately answered. “Just that these two have apparently decided that Lucifer is more trustworthy than I am.”

“What?” Dean demanded at the same time that Sam protested, “We didn’t say that,” and Castiel said, “That is not true.”

“They want to give the Hand of God to Lucifer, so that he can kill Amara.”

“No,” Sam hurried to explain. “I just asked Cas if Lucifer would have a better shot at killing her, and he said yes. We never said it was a good idea.”

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s a horrible idea,” Dean contended. “After everything he’s done to the two of you, how could you even consider it?”

“We’re not,” Castiel objected firmly.

“But Lucifer _does_ stand a chance against Amara,” Sam allowed. “I’m not saying we arm him with a Hand of God, but Cas says he’s looking for a way, so maybe…”

“We wait for him to take her out?” Dean clarified.

Sam nodded.

“You really think that’s a good idea?”

“I think there are worse ideas out there. I’m not saying we give up entirely, but he has a better shot than we do. And we have a Hand of God ready to take him out when the job is done.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” Crowley shouted. “He is turning my Kingdom upside-down!”

“Big picture, Crowley,” Sam snapped. “What do you think, Dean?” he asked, turning back to his brother.

“I don’t like it. But… you do have a point. Cas?”

They both turned to look at Castiel, who was looking at Sam thoughtfully. “I do not like the idea of Lucifer being free, but currently he is fixated on taking out Amara. I agree with Sam.”

“I hate all of you,” Crowley muttered as he dug into his breakfast.

“We’re still killing Lucifer,” Dean assured him. “We’re just waiting a little bit. Not too long, though. If something doesn’t happen soon, we’re not going to just sit around on our asses.”

“Agreed,” Sam said.

“Sam.” Dean set down one of the remaining plates in front of him. “Eat.”

Sam shot him an irritated glare, but ate anyway.

Even though they had a tentative plan now, Sam continued to research as the day wore on. When asked, he said that he was looking for more information on Amara, just in case. And when it was pointed out that they had already searched through everything that might have any information on her, he would make some excuse about being thorough. Because the fact was, research was his safety net, it distracted him from reality, and if he wasn’t doing it right now, he would probably just drink himself into an abyss. Eventually, his eyes couldn’t focus anymore, and as much as he was dreading it, he knew he had to go to bed.

“Sam.”

He turned around at the entrance to the hallway to see Castiel standing a few feet back, giving him plenty of room so that he wouldn’t feel at all threatened, for which he was very grateful. “Yeah?”

“I know you don’t agree with what I did, I do not even agree with what I did; but what you said earlier makes me feel as though, while it was undeniably a horrible decision, my reasoning wasn’t completely unfounded, and perhaps some good can come out of it. I know you did not say it for my benefit, but I wanted you to know that I am grateful, all the same.”

“I’m glad,” Sam said with a small smile. “You shouldn’t beat yourself up over this, Cas. You really believed that you were doing the right thing, and yeah, maybe he will take out Amara. But even if he doesn’t, you took the best shot you could think of, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Castiel nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps I will take that advice when you do.”

Sam ducked his head. “Suppose you have a point there.” Words that Castiel had said to him a couple years ago rang in his head, _‘The only person who has screwed thing up more consistently than you… is me.’_ He supposed they really had made a lot of the same mistakes, gone through a lot of the same shit. “You know… I know a thing or two about being Lucifer’s vessel, how it can… mess with you. So… if you ever want to talk… maybe it could help both of us.” He looked up at him hesitantly.

What was he doing? He had broken up with the guy yesterday, and now he was offering to talk with him about the primary cause? Because that surely wouldn’t cause him to associate him even more with Lucifer. Then again… maybe talking with him about it could help them to work out those underlying issues that made it so hard to look at him. At least one thing was certain, it would either help or hurt immensely.

“Thank you, Sam.” Castiel looked grateful, even smiled slightly. “But I do not think now is the time for that. It is too fresh for the both of us. Still, I might take you up on the offer in the near future.”

“I’ll be here.”

He inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Sleep well.”

Sam didn’t exactly sleep well that night, but it could have been worse. He still had nightmares, but they weren’t quite as severe, and he at least managed to get more than three hours of sleep. It was something.


	6. Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, when I chose the title for this, I wasn't sure where exactly I was going with it, and now that I have a better idea, I feel that the previous title of 'Together' no longer works. Sorry for the sudden change.

Sam and Dean had reverted to their default of distracting themselves with cases. It felt good, getting out of the bunker, focusing on something that didn’t involve Lucifer, or Amara, or Castiel. Sam knew that it wasn’t exactly a healthy coping mechanism, that he was just suppressing his issues, but it was what kept him going, so he wasn’t going to criticize himself too harshly for it.

Still, the more he suppressed his problems in his waking hours, the worse his nightmares got. Normally, they involved Castiel revealing himself to be Lucifer and then torturing him in various ways. Sometimes, though, he was back in the cage, being tortured by two different versions of Lucifer – him as he had appeared to Sam in the cage, as well as him as Castiel. No matter what the dream, he woke up with tears stinging his eyes, shaking from not just fear, but the iciness that the dreams left him with.

He shuffled out to the kitchen, intending to get some coffee to both warm and wake him up, but when he entered the room, Castiel was sitting at the table.

“Sam,” he looked up in surprise, his eyebrows immediately furrowing in concern. “It’s quite early, you should really get more sleep.”

Sam shook his head, his eyes darting away from the angel, as was now the usual when he found himself in the same room as him. “Can’t sleep.”

He caught the movement of Castiel standing out of the corner of his eye. “Would you like me to leave?”

He deliberated for a minute. As bad as he would feel to say yes, he knew that Castiel would understand, that he was already prepared for that answer. But if he ever wanted to patch things up between them, he couldn’t keep running from him every time they were in the same room together. He had to try.

“No. You can stay.”

Castiel nodded in thanks and the awkward silence that had so often fallen between them lately fell again. Maybe he should just leave, let Castiel get back to whatever it was he was doing. But he felt so cold – a sensation that he had detested ever since returning from the cage – and he shouldn’t let Castiel’s presence chase him away from getting a drink to warm up.

He still hadn’t moved, and he didn’t realize that he was shivering until Castiel removed his trench coat and offered it out to him.

“Thanks,” he muttered as he took it and pulled it on. It smelled like Castiel, and Sam couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or bad, but at least it was warm.

“Would you like some of my coffee? It is still warm.” He held the cup out to him and Sam gratefully took it.

The feeling of the warmth radiating from the cup was a sensation that he never got in the cage, and it helped to pull him back to reality. The warm liquid running down his throat was even more satisfying. “Since when do you drink coffee?” he asked once the numbness from the cold began to fade.

Castiel looked down. “Since I am nearly always cold these days.”

Sam nodded in understanding. He remembered the iciness that had spread through him the moment Lucifer had entered his body, remembered how after he had gotten his soul back, the ghost of that iciness had still been there. “Course.” He handed the mug back to him. “I’ll brew us some more.”

He was halfway through brewing the pot when Castiel spoke up again. “Does this ever go away?”

He looked up at him sympathetically. “Not really. I mean, I hardly notice it anymore, unless my nightmares make me, but… some things never leave you.”

Castiel nodded as he walked over to stand on the other side of the counter from him. “It’s not just the cold, either. Everything in my past, every mistake I ever made…”

“He throws them all in your face with a neat little bow and makes everything a thousand times worse. He either points out how awful you are or says that he would have done the exact same thing, and you don’t know which one’s worse. He points out every single flaw you have and makes it into something that defines you.”

“He said that I had done more to destroy Heaven than he had ever done. That it was fitting that I was his vessel.”

Sam shook his head as he topped off Castiel’s coffee and then poured himself a mug. “Cas, everything you did, you were trying to make things right. And you recognize now the mistakes you made, and you regret them. You’ve learned from them. Lucifer, he _wanted_ to do everything he did. To him, he never made a mistake. There’s a difference.”

“I know that, but… I worry that there is not enough of a difference. We did both try to rule Heaven, and we both destroyed so many lives in the process.”

“Again, for completely different reasoning. And God locked him up for his actions, but he saved you. Doesn’t that say something?”

“Once upon a time, I would have said yes, but now, I am not so sure. I don’t know anything about my Father.”

“Alright, fine, but you know me. And I say that there is one hell of a difference between you and Lucifer. I know what you’re going through, Cas, I went through the exact same thing. Lucifer is good at placing doubt. The entire time he was possessing me, he was pointing out every similarity between us, and even while I was fighting against him, denying everything he said, deep down all I could think was that he was right, we were exactly the same.”

“No,” Castiel argued earnestly. “You are nothing like him.”

“And neither are you. Your mistakes are just that – mistakes. They don’t make you a bad person, and you certainly shouldn’t take Lucifer’s word on the matter. And I know, I know it’s not as simple as deciding not to listen to everything he said to you. That doubt’s gonna be there. I’m just saying that you should try to fight against it.”

Castiel nodded. “Thank you, Sam.” He walked over to resume his seat at the table, and Sam took a seat across from him. “Your advice is easier said than done, but your support means a lot to me. That’s enough about my issues, though. Would you like to talk about your nightmares?”

Sam hesitated. Given that his nightmares were about Castiel – or rather, Lucifer as Castiel – he didn’t think that that was the best idea. He shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

Castiel nodded. “I understand.”

The corners of Sam’s lips turned up slightly as he took another drink of his coffee. He had actually been able to look at Castiel, to carry on a conversation with him, without having to take a deep breath to calm himself down every few minutes. He wasn’t stupid enough to think that all their problems were suddenly solved, but it was a huge step. The silence that stretched on now was far more comfortable than the one that had existed between them these last several weeks. The uneasiness was still there, of course, but it was manageable. It was the most relaxed that Sam had been since his trip back to the cage that had started all of this, and he even found himself starting to doze (coffee had lost the ability to keep him awake some time ago).

For a few seconds, or maybe even minutes, he was able to rest blissfully, but then an intake of breath brought with it the scent of Castiel’s coat that he was still wearing. Suddenly, he was back in his room, that scent filling his nose as Lucifer… He jerked awake, his arm hitting his mug and knocking it over, spilling coffee over the table.

“Sam, are you-?” Castiel began, reaching across the table to him, but he flinched away. “I’m sorry.” He slowly drew his arm back to his side.

“It’s fine,” Sam muttered without looking at him. He briskly got to his feet and removed the coat, draping it over ever his chair before leaving the room without another word.

He once again sought out the solace of research, diving into the hunt for a new case to forget what it felt like to have Lucifer controlling those hand as they moved over him; to forget the way he looked, tasted, felt, _smelled_ like Castiel all the while; to forget the look on Castiel’s face when he had recoiled from him.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Dean and Crowley made their way to the library from the room they shared. Dean had insisted that Crowley sharing his room with him was the best option so that he could keep an eye on him. Sam wasn’t stupid, but he preferred to accept Dean’s excuse, rather than wonder what else might be going on. He had enough to worry about.

“Find anything?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. Get this, a bunch of bodies have been popping up – cause of death has been contributed to spontaneous combustion, but externally, their bodies are completely intact, aside from their eyes, which have been burnt out.”

“Lucifer’s burning through vessels,” Crowley noted.

“Looks like it.”

Castiel entered the room, clearly having heard their voices and decided that it was safe to come out without finding himself alone with Sam again. The hunter’s guilt swelled up in him at the realization that he was making him hide.

“If he can’t find a ride that can contain him for more than a few minutes, he won’t be any help against the Darkness,” Crowley pointed out.

“You’re right,” Dean agreed.

“So, are we done sitting on our asses, then?”

Dean exchanged a quick look with Sam and Castiel to ensure that they were all in agreement, and then nodded. “Yeah. And before you say anything about going after Lucifer; he’s jumping from vessel to vessel and isn’t much of a threat at the moment. Amara is. So, we’re going after her first, _then_ we can worry about him.”

“As opposed to taking him out before he has a chance to find a more permanent vessel?”

“If we take Amara out fast enough, we can still do that. Besides, I have a feeling we’ll have to deal with a few burnt out vessels before we can track him down. Meanwhile, Amara will keep getting that much closer to her end game.”

“Dean’s right,” Sam spoke up. “There’s only one option here.”

Castiel nodded in agreement, and Crowley glared at all of them in turn before he sighed in defeat. “Fine. Amara first.”

“Good. So, you ready to hand over the weapon?” Dean asked.

Crowley’s glare rested on him. “I never agreed-”

“Tick tock, Crowley. The longer we waste arguing over this, the more time Lucifer has to find a stronger vessel.”

They glared at each other for a minute before Crowley’s shoulders sagged slightly. “I’ll bring you to rod once we have a plan,” he muttered reluctantly.

“Good.”

“How will we find her?” Castiel asked.

“I, uh… I have a feeling she’ll come for me if I reach out to her. But… I don’t know what I’ll do when she shows.”

“What do you mean?”

Dean glanced at Sam, who nodded. Dean had already explained to him the connection he had with Amara, and Castiel and Crowley deserved to know too, if they were all about to go into this together.

“Amara and I have… a connection,” Dean explained. “I don’t know what it is, and it scares the hell out of me, but whenever I’m near her… something weird happens to me, and it’s like I _can’t_ hurt her. Not just physically, but I don’t want to. And… if we go through with this… I don’t know what I’ll do when it comes time to kill her.”

Castiel rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You won’t have to do anything. I am the one who will be wielding the weapon. You just have to get her there.”

“I know, but what if… what if I lose it and try to stop you…”

“We won’t let that happen,” Sam assured him. “We’ll all be there. We’ll keep it under control.”

“Yeah, squirrel,” Crowley added. “I’ll personally knock you out if you try anything stupid.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Crowley.”

“My pleasure.”

“So… we’re doing this, then? We’re going after Amara?”

Sam nodded. “There’s no reason not to.”

“I suggest you find somewhere secluded to call her,” Castiel advised.

“There’s always the place the angels tried smiting her.” Dean turned back to Crowley. “You want to just teleport us there? The quicker we can get this over and done with, the better.”

Crowley nodded. “I’ll take you three there, then get the rod from my warehouse.”

“Okay.” Dean took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”


	7. Power

Everything was all set. Sam, Castiel, and Crowley were hidden just inside the trees, while Dean paced the clearing nervously, waiting for their signal.

“I present to you, the Rod of Aaron.” Crowley, back in his customary suit, held the rod by a piece of cloth as he offered it out to Castiel.

Castiel took it cautiously, being careful to only touch the fabric, and not the actual rod.

“You don’t want to go ahead and power up?” Sam asked.

He shook his head. “She might be able to sense it.”

“Good call,” Crowley agreed as he turned his attention to the clearing, frowning slightly as his gaze landed on Dean. “And we’re sure it’s a good idea to use Dean as bait?”

“It’s the only way we can get her here,” Sam assured him. “Besides, he’ll be fine. Dean’s been bait for worse.”

Crowley turned to him with raised eyebrows. “Worse than God’s sister?” he asked skeptically.

“Okay, no, but things that actually want to hurt him. Amara doesn’t.”

“Let’s hope that doesn’t change after she sees us.”

The knot that was already in Sam’s stomach tightened uncomfortably. Crowley was right. Amara may have been opposed to hurting Dean in the past, but if she saw the rod, realized she was actually in danger, there was no telling how she would react. But they didn’t have a choice. It was the only way to get to her, and if Dean was willing to go through with it, then Sam wasn’t going to stop him.

He took a deep breath before poking his head out of the trees and catching Dean’s eye. “We’re ready when you are.”

Dean breathed in deeply and nodded. He came to a stop in his pacing, facing the patch of trees where everyone else was hidden. Sam stepped back beside Castiel, and Crowley stood behind them, his hands resting on their shoulders. It would give Amara too much time to react if they walked out there, so the best way to handle it was for Crowley to teleport them.

They watched with bated breath as Dean looked up at the sky. “Amara?” he called. “Amara, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I… I want to talk to you. I have questions. About this… about us. And you’re the only one who can answer them. So…”

Suddenly, Amara was standing in front of him. “Hello, Dean. It is good to see you again.”

Dean swallowed thickly. “Yeah… you too.”

Sam felt a familiar tugging sensation, and then they were standing in the clearing, at Dean’s side. Crowley side-stepped to position himself between Sam and Dean. While Sam would have preferred to be standing by his brother, they all agreed that Crowley should be the one standing by Dean, as he had the best chance of stopping him if he tried anything.

Amara’s eyes flashed over to them, narrowing slightly. “Uncle Crowley.”

“Amara,” he greeted her with a sad smile as his hand closed around Dean’s wrist, just in case. “I wish things could have gone differently.”

As they spoke, Castiel discarded the fabric covering the rod and took it in his hand. Immediately, a golden light shined not only from his eyes, but in his veins. It flowed through him until it all gathered in his left hand. He extended his hand forward and light burst from it in a thick beam that flickered like flames. It hit Amara in the chest and her arms spread out to the sides, her hair flowing back, as she absorbed the power of the Hand of God.

And then the light was gone, and Amara was still standing there, appearing completely unfazed.

“Cas, hit her again,” Sam said urgently.

“I can’t…. There’s no more power.”

Before they could do anything else, Amara had extended her hand and Castiel was being drug forward, coming to a stop just a few inches in front of her. Sam’s eyes grew wide and panic flared in him. _No!_

But Dean moved first. He took a step forward, and Crowley let him, though he kept his hand around his wrist to prevent him from moving too far. “Amara, don’t hurt him,” he begged.

Amara left Castiel hanging there, unable to do anything, and turned to look at Dean in mild surprise. “Why not? The whole world will be gone soon enough. What is the point in sparing him until then?”

As soon as Amara was distracted talking to Dean, Crowley grabbed hold of Sam’s hand. Sam looked down, confused, but Crowley muttered to him quietly, “See if you can get close enough to grab Cas. I should be able to get us all out.”

Sam nodded and began inching forward, keeping a cautious eye on Amara as he did.

“If you’re killing him, you might as well kill me, too,” Dean was saying. “I’m the one who arranged this.”

Amara shook her head. “When will you stop fighting this? I did not bring you back from the dead just to kill you now.”

Dean’s eyes grew wide, and even Sam paused in his creep towards Castiel.

“You brought me back?” Dean demanded.

Crowley squeezed Sam’s hand, and remembering himself, Sam started forward again.

“Of course I did. We’re connected, Dean. I could feel your death. I found it… unsettling. I was still weak from the angel’s attempted smiting, but as soon as I gathered up enough power, it was easy to bring you back.”

“So, should I be thanking you? Is that what you’re getting at?”

“I do not require your thanks. I know you are scared now, but you’ll see. We belong together.”

Dean was staring at her, clearly waging an internal struggle. Amara began to turn back to Castiel, but Sam was already there. He intertwined his fingers with Castiel’s, and a second later, they were back inside the bunker.

Sam and Crowley immediately dropped hands, and they all simply stared at each other for a minute, adrenaline still coursing through them.

“Well,” Crowley finally broke the silence. “That went swimmingly.”

“Dammit,” Dean muttered as he pulled his wrist out of Crowley’s grip in favor of throwing his hand in the air. “What the hell are we supposed to do now? If a freakin’ Hand of God didn’t work against her, what will?”

Crowley waited a couple seconds before replying. “We could always turn our efforts to Lucifer.”

“What?” Dean rounded on him incredulously. “No! Amara’s still out there! And you heard what she said, the whole world will be gone soon!”

“And we can’t do anything about it, currently. We just blew our one shot at her. _So,_ unless you have any other brilliant ideas on how to take her out, I suggest we focus our efforts on something we actually stand a chance at accomplishing.”

“No way,” Sam argued. “Amara is still the bigger threat. If anything, this is all the more reason to focus on her – to find a way to take her down.”

“What if there’s nothing?” he demanded.

“Then Amara will take out Lucifer for us,” Dean pointed out. “And all the world with him.”

Crowley shook his head, turning to the younger Winchester imploringly. “Sam, how can you stand it? He had more time with you, so I know you had to have it worse than I did, but even what I got… I _can’t stand_ being on the same planet as him, knowing that he’s out there, and I don’t know how you can.”

Sam’s expression softened. “I can’t…. I hate every second of it, Crowley. But it’s not about me. So long as Amara’s out there, the whole world is at stake, and… I have to focus on that, even if it means ignoring the way my skin crawls knowing that Lucifer is free.”

Crowley sighed. “Well, aren’t you just a saint? I’m not. I’m a demon. And I can’t distract myself by thinking about the wellbeing of the world. I just have to sit here and _suffer_ while you three dismiss everything I say.” He glared around at the three of them before turning on his heels and storming off, further into the bunker.

Sam blinked after him in surprise. “Wow… who would’ve though Crowley was actually hurting? I thought it was just his ego driving him after Lucifer.”

Dean was staring after the demon, frowning. “Yeah, me too…” he muttered. “I’ll go talk to him.” Without waiting for a response, he took off after Crowley.

Sam sighed, shaking his head. He didn’t know what the hell was going on between the two of them, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He leaned back against the door, realizing as he moved that he was still attached to Castiel by the hand.

He looked down to where his hand rested in Castiel’s warm grip, surprised, before his gaze moved up and he met the angel’s eyes. The thrill of fear that sent through him was less severe than usual, and he was able to politely disentangle his hand from Castiel’s, rather than jerking away as he had that morning.

He looked down and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Cas… I want to apologize for this morning.”

“You did nothing wrong, Sam,” he replied immediately.

“Yes, I did. I keep hurting you.”

“Sam, you are not responsible for my feelings. You are dealing with a lot right now, and all of your reactions are completely understandable.”

“Yeah, like the fact that I launched myself across the room when you tried to comfort me? And then left with no explanation because it was easier for me. I’m being selfish, Cas.”

“Sam,” Castiel’s voice was stern, demanding his attention. “You are the most unselfish being that I have ever met.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. You have given up so much for the world time and time again. You would do anything to protect others, and you don’t care about the consequences to yourself.”

“But I’m hurting you. I want to be there for you, but…”

“Sam, you were there for me this morning. Your conversation with me helped immensely. You didn’t have to talk to me; the topic was a sore subject for you, but you still offered what comfort you could. But we are both hurting right now, and so we are both expressing signs of it. That is not selfishness, it is coping.”

Sam managed a small smile, still not entirely convinced, but appreciative of Castiel’s words, all the same. He ran a hand through his hair, deciding it best to change the subject. “What’re we gonna do about Amara?” he sighed.

Castiel frowned. “I wish I had an answer. If a Hand of God didn’t work, I don’t know what will.”


	8. Warm

Sam crossed through the library, on his way to his room to get a book he had been reading last night, but he stopped when he heard voices coming from just inside the hall.

Dean’s voice was fervent as he spoke. “I refuse to let Lucifer get away with what he did to Sam, Cas… to you.”

Crowley scoffed. “To me? Don’t pretend, Dean. All I am to you is a bloody distraction.”

“But you’re not.” He sighed, sounding as though he didn’t want to say the next words aloud. “I didn’t just save you because I thought you’d be useful.”

Sam backed out of the library, careful not to make any sound that would alert them to his presence. This was clearly not a conversation he was meant to overhear.

“Is everything okay?” Castiel asked when Sam backed into the war room.

“Uh… yeah, I think, just… weird.” He shook his head slightly. “I think there’s something going on between Crowley and Dean, and I really don’t want to be there for it.”

Castiel nodded. “Lucifer was quite convinced that Crowley is in love with Dean.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure if I bought it, but perhaps…. How do you feel about it?”

“Weirded out. I don’t know what Dean’s thinking, but there’s enough to worry about right now, so I’m just going to ignore it.”

And the things to worry about only continued to stack up. Rowena contacted them the next day, saying that she was back from the dead and that whenever they decided to go after Lucifer, she wanted in.

“She’s not staying here,” Sam said firmly, but he needn’t have bothered because no one else wanted her there, either.

“If you want to be helpful, mother, just… try to track him down. And call us if you find anything.” Crowley hung up the phone before she could reply. “Well… at least we have a key to the cage, now.”

“But we still aren’t any closer to figuring out how to kill Amara.”

Dean sighed. “Crowley, you’re sure she never let slip any weakness of hers?”

“If she had, don’t you think I would have mentioned it by now?”

“It took God and all the archangels to lock her up last time,” Castiel thought aloud. “Maybe one Hand of God is simply not enough. Maybe we need more power.”

“Oh yeah, power equivalent to God and four archangels,” Dean muttered. “Piece of cake.”

“Cas does have a point, though,” Sam said. “Maybe if we can find more Hands of God… use them one right after the other.”

“Crowley? What do you think?” Dean turned to the demon at his side.

“It has more merit than anything else we’ve thought up. But do you know how much it took to get that _one_ Hand of God? And you’re talking about getting five, at least.”

“We’d better start looking, then.”

“It doesn’t have to be just Hands of God, though,” Castiel pointed out. “She said the angel smiting took a lot out of her. If we can get Heaven to do that again, in combination with two or three Hands of God, and perhaps a few other sources of power…”

“We gang up on her like the archangels did. I like it.”

“Will you be able to convince Heaven to try again?” Sam asked.

“I believe that their desire to be rid of Amara is greater than their hatred of me. However, I think it best to have everything else in order before I talk to them, so that they will have less reason to refuse.”

“Alright,” Dean said, standing. “Crowley, you already tracked down one Hand of God. Show us how it’s done.”

That, along with a couple cases, kept them pretty occupied for the next few days. It was only because Sam was so exhausted from everything they were doing that he was able to get to sleep at night, though he more often than not woke up far sooner than he would have liked, always feeling ice cold. So most mornings around two or three, he would roll out of bed and go to the kitchen for coffee.

“More nightmares?” Castiel asked as Sam entered the kitchen. The angel was sitting at the table, as he was nearly every morning at this time. The mornings between them were gradually becoming less awkward, and Sam was beginning to welcome his presence, glad to have someone to talk to.

He nodded as he walked over to brew some coffee.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Castiel asked after a minute.

Sam hesitated, deliberating. “It was the cage. Just… memories.”

They were silent while the coffee finished brewing, then Sam poured himself a cup and went to sit across from Castiel. “Still… you weren’t in it, tonight.” Castiel was no longer a constant factor in his dream, and while he still wasn’t gone from them completely, Sam took it as a good sign.

“Is that why you are actually talking to me about it?”

Sam shrugged. “I just feel weird talking to you about it, when…”

“I know. I wish you would, though. I feel that it would be beneficial to you.”

He sighed, his next words coming out in a rush as he didn’t quite look at Castiel. “I don’t really know what to say. Some of them are memories of what happened, sometimes it’s two versions of him torturing me, sometimes it’s me opening back up to you, only for you to reveal that you’re Lucifer – which, I _know_ you’re not, whenever I’m awake I don’t even doubt it, I just-”

“Sam,” Castiel cut off his rambling gently. “I know. You could tell the second I broke through. It makes sense that you would be having those dreams, though. I betrayed your trust when I said yes to him-”

“No, you didn’t-”

“Yes, I did. Not deliberately, and I know you don’t blame me for it, but the facts are that you trusted me to keep you safe, and I gave Lucifer access to you. I can never tell you how sorry I am.”

“I know, Cas, and I forgive you.”

“I do not understand how you always find it in your heart to forgive me, when I have hurt you so much.”

Sam smiled softly. “Because you deserve forgiveness.”

They continued talking for a few hours, until Dean stepped into the kitchen. He paused in the doorway, smiling at the two of them. “Sorry to interrupt, but I think I’ve found us a case.”

The case turned out to be not just some run-of-the-mill monster, but Amara. She had infected another town like she had when she had first got free, making people go crazy and killing each other. And for a minute, Sam thought they had lost. Most of the town was infected, those they had quarantined wouldn’t hold out forever, and then he got infected.

But then everyone was fine, and Sam and Dean were standing in front of Chuck, who was supposed to be dead, and the God-detecting amulet that Dean was holding was glowing brightly. It took Chuck teleporting them back to the bunker and bringing Kevin’s ghost to talk to them for them to realize what was really going on.

“Holy crap,” Dean muttered, while Sam just stared.

God was standing in front of him. Actual God. He was here. In their house. And he was an old friend of theirs. But the whole time he was… Sam’s head was spinning.

“Sam? Dean?” Castiel turned into the library, Crowley right behind him. “When did you get… Chuck?”

Chuck turned to him with a small smile. “Hello, Castiel. Crowley.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow, pointing at him. “You’re the author of the _Supernatural_ books, yeah?”

He tilted his head to this side, appearing vaguely amused. “Among other things.”

“I heard you died.”

“Not exactly.”

Crowley opened his mouth, but Dean cut him off. “Crowley. Stop.” There was something in his voice that made the demon actually listen to him, looking at him with sudden concern.

“Sam,” Castiel looked to him with a frown. “What’s going on?”

“Um…” He looked at Chuck uncertainly, but he nodded for him to continue. “He’s… He’s God.”

Castiel’s eyes grew wide as he turned back to Chuck, the expression in them indescribable. There was awe, pain, love, anger, and so many other emotions all twisted together. The alarm on Crowley’s face was much easier to read, as he took a step back.

Chuck’s expression was understanding. “I think we should probably sit down and talk.”

“I’ll just…” Crowley began, taking another step back, but it was as though he had backed into an invisible wall.

“I think you should stay, Crowley; the idea is for us all to work together here. I assure you, I am not going to hurt you.”

“Yes, well… if you insist.” He grimaced as he walked over to Dean’s side.

The conversation was rocky, to say the least. Sam was just in awe of the fact that he was actually talking to God, but both Dean and Castiel felt betrayed and abandoned and wanted answers. Crowley just sat beside Dean and tried to appear invisible. They eventually soothed out the majority of the issues, though, and got to where they would all be able to work together.

“I’ve always had faith in you,” Chuck said, and Sam felt his heart swell. “Even if you didn’t return the favor.”

There was a moment’s silence while that sank in, before Crowley broke it. “Great, so are we done here? Can I go?” Sitting in the same room as God was clearly a bit unsettling for the former King of Hell.

Chuck nodded, and Crowley got to his feet and left the room.

Dean stood, as well. “I’m just gonna…” he trailed off as he followed after Crowley, and Sam looked after them in disbelief.

“They make a good couple,” Chuck commented off-handedly.

Sam’s disbelief grew even more prevalent as he turned to look at him. “They do?”

“Yes. They complement each other well. I mean, I’m firmly against Crowley – for obvious reasons – but he’s a good match for Dean.”

Well, he supposed that if God said that Dean and Crowley were a good match, then Sam had no room to say they shouldn’t be together.

“Much like you and Castiel,” Chuck added.

Sam’s eyes widened in surprise, and he didn’t dare look over at Castiel. Before he could think of what to say, though, Chuck was asking where the guest shower was, and then was gone.

Sam and Castiel sat in silence for several seconds. “Well… good to know your father approves of me,” he finally said with a shaky laugh.

He turned in time to catch Castiel’s smile as he got to his feet. “Yes, it is. I’ll see you in the morning, Sam.”

Sam was actually in a fairly good mood when he went to bed that night. They had God on their side, God never lost faith in him, God thought he was worthy to date Castiel. Maybe everything would be okay.

He should have known better than to think that those good thoughts would be able to chase away the nightmares, though. As soon as he fell asleep, he was back in the cage, and then he woke up shivering once again.

He sighed as he got to his feet and trudged to the kitchen. His gaze automatically flickered to the seat that Castiel nearly always occupied at this hour, but the angel wasn’t there. Disappointment swelled up in him as he began brewing his coffee in silence. He warmed his hands over the hot water as it brewed, but even when he began drinking the coffee, he still felt just as cold.

He stood there for a few minutes, staring at the place where Castiel should be, waiting for the coffee to start warming him up. Then he decided that coffee just wasn’t going to do the trick. He put the cup in the sink and then took off down the hall.

He knocked once before entering the room to see Castiel sitting on the bed, watching Netflix. “Sorry… I was having nightmares, and normally you’re in the kitchen, but… can I join you?”

Castiel blinked in surprise. “Of course.”

Sam gratefully crawled into bed beside him, noticing that Castiel remained very still, carefully keeping his distance as Sam laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The invisible wall that was always between them was thinner than usual, and Sam could feel the heat radiating from the angel. Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore, and he reached out for Castiel, curling into his side. “You’re warm,” he muttered as an excuse.

He heard the slight intake of breath above his head before Castiel hesitantly wrapped an arm around him. Not even a minute later, and Sam was out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the last chapters written, they just need to be edited, so the updates should be coming quickly.


	9. Sick

The first thing that Sam was aware of upon waking was that he was more comfortable than he had been in months – not just in the way he was laying, curled around Castiel, but he actually felt rested… peaceful. He breathed in a deep breath as he opened his eyes.                                            

“What time is it?” he mumbled.

“Almost noon,” Castiel spoke softly from above him.

Sam pushed himself up, blinking in surprise. “Noon?”

“Yes. Clearly, you needed the sleep.”

Sam chuckled lightly, running a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. “I guess so…. Thanks.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You still helped.” He bit his lip as he looked down at the angel, slightly tempted to kiss him, but something told him that would be a bad idea. Things were finally getting back to normal between them, and he did not want to mess it all up by rushing things.

“I’m glad,” he said with a huge smile as he sat up. “Now, we should probably go join the others.”

Dean looked up with raised eyebrows as they entered the library together. “Well, good morning, sleepy-head. You sleep with Cas last night?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Dean.” But he couldn’t stop smiling over the fact that he had actually been able to fall asleep in Castiel’s arms last night, that he hadn’t freaked out upon waking up in bed with him.

They spent the first half of the day talking with Chuck and strategizing. They told him about the plan they had been working on, but he insisted that, with him there, it was no longer necessary. They just needed to focus on finding Amara, who had shielded herself against him.

“I could try calling her again,” Dean suggested. “She came last time.”

“And walked into a trap,” Chuck pointed out. “My sister isn’t stupid, she won’t fall for that again.”

“Alright, so we’ll figure something else out.” Sam hesitated before continuing, unsure if he should bring up his next thought or not. He decided that it was probably for the best. They needed to get it right the next time they saw Amara. “The way we heard it, um… last time when you bottled up the Darkness, it – it took more than just you. I mean, we heard that Lucifer was involved.” As much as he hated the idea of bringing Lucifer into their plans, he felt a lot better about it with God on their side.

Chuck’s face went blank. “No.”

“No?” Dean repeated.

“Lucifer was perhaps my greatest hope and my bitterest disappointment. Do you think if I could have trusted him for a moment, I would have put him in the Cage? And I wasn't gonna mention this, but thank you so much for springing him.”

Castiel looked down, and Sam reached over, grabbing hold of his hand. “That wasn't really the plan, um...” Sam started.

“Now, as bad as he was, after all this time in prison, he's probably worse. It's a mistake to get mixed up with him. So, no. Thus spake the Lord.” And with that, he turned and walked out of the room.

“If he wasn’t able to defeat her on his own last time, I don’t see how he’ll be able to this time,” Crowley muttered in an undertone once enough time had passed for Chuck to get out of earshot (if it was even possible for God to be out of earshot).

Dean turned to him with raised eyebrows. “You think we _should_ team up with Lucifer?”

“Of course not. I’m just saying, he’s not making a lot of sense.”

“I don’t disagree,” Castiel said.

“But surely he knows what he’s doing, right?” Sam asked. “I mean, he definitely wants Amara gone, so he’s not going to screw over our chances.”

“Let’s hope not,” Crowley sighed.

Dean’s phone started going off, and as he looked at it, his eyes widened in surprise. “What?” he answered irritably, and then a few seconds later, no more pleasant, “Okay, say it.” When he hung up the phone, it was with an exasperated sigh.

“Who was it?” Sam asked.

“Metatron. He says he needs to tell us something, and it has to be in person.”

“Do we trust him?”

“He’s human now,” Castiel pointed out. “He can’t do anything.”

Dean shrugged. “We can always shoot him if he irritates us.”

So, a couple hours later, Sam and Dean met Metatron at a bar and found out from him that Chuck was planning on sacrificing himself to Amara. Sam’s heart sank. He had felt that with God on their side, surely they were unbeatable. But he was just going to throw in the towel. There was no chance that Amara would just walk away after killing him – she would immediately turn her attention to destroying his creation. They would lose.

Dean tried to talk Chuck of the ledge, but he had no idea if he had even come close to convincing him. And then Rowena called, saying that she had Lucifer’s location, and Sam had an idea.

“You’re just going to stroll up to Lucifer and ask him to join the team?” Crowley demanded.

“He wants Amara gone. That should be enough to get him to listen.”

“And then with the added muscle, maybe Chuck will play ball.” Dean nodded in agreement. “Fine. But you don’t have to be the one to do it.”

Sam smiled at his brother gratefully. “Yeah, I do. He’s more likely to listen to me.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Castiel corrected. “I’ll go with you.”

Sam turned his smile to him. “Thanks, Cas.”

“Me too,” Dean added, but Sam shook his head.

“No. The more people there are, the more on the defensive he’ll be. It should just be Cas and me.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“How did we move from Lucifer being our next target to asking him to join the band?” Crowley asked bitterly.

“This is short term,” Sam assured him. “As soon as Amara’s gone, I want Lucifer gone, too.”

“That’d better not change.”

“Believe me, it won’t.”

Sam and Castiel met up with Rowena, and then she directed them to the house that Lucifer was currently in.

Sam shook his head, feeling sick, as they walked up the steps to the front porch. “This feels so wrong,” he muttered.

“You don’t have to do this,” Castiel reminded him.

His gaze lingered on the angel, and he briefly entertained the idea of just walking away. But he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did that. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

His heart hammered in his chest as the seconds ticked by, and then the door was opened to reveal a middle-aged man with dark hair and a muscular build. As soon as he saw them, his eyes narrowed. “Well… isn’t this an unpleasant surprise.”

“We’re here to talk,” Sam said firmly.

Lucifer raised his eyebrows. “To… _talk?”_ he repeated skeptically.

“About Amara. We need your help taking her out.”

 _“My_ help?” He bit his lip thoughtfully. “Oh, well, I’m _flattered_ that you would come to me, but… how do I know this isn’t a trap?”

“Do you see any holy fire?”

“Hmm…” His eyes scanned over the both of them cautiously. “Very well. We can talk more comfortably if you come in.” He smirked.

A chill ran through Sam’s body at the words and he swallowed back the bile he could feel rising in his throat. “Not gonna happen. We’re talking here.”

Lucifer crossed his arms across his chest. “Fine. Tell me, why should I join forces with you? What have you got up your sleeve?”

“Your father.”

That wiped the smug expression off his face. “What?”

“We’re working with your father.”

His expression turned sour. _“Why_ would that make me want to join up with you?”

“Because it’s the only chance we have at killing Amara.”

“Don’t care,” he spat.

“How long before you burn through this vessel?” Castiel spoke up.

Lucifer’s eyes snapped to him. “What?” he demanded.

“This vessel wasn’t made to hold you. It is only a matter of time. But I am sure that our father would be able to make it last.”

“Somehow, I don’t think daddy wants to do me any favors.”

“He might if we’re all working together,” Sam pointed out.

Lucifer looked at him for a moment, deliberating, before he took a step closer. “You really want to work with me, Sammy?”

Castiel swiftly side-stepped between them. “It is a necessity, one that does not require you to be so close to him,” he said coldly and Sam felt a swell of appreciation for him.

“Well, it does if I’m supposed to fly you two back to the bunker.”

“So, you’ll help?” Sam clarified, staring him down over Castiel’s shoulder.

He shrugged. “Sure. A reunion with dear-old Dad… sounds like fun.”

“You’ll table all the old stuff?”

He grinned. “Of course.”

Sam got the sinking feeling that he was lying, but he didn’t know what there was they could do about it. They needed him, so hopefully once they got him and Chuck together, it would all work out. Yeah, like anything ever ‘all worked out,’ but it was the only shot they had and they had to take it.

“Then let’s go.”

His skin crawled when Lucifer touched him, and the second they were in the bunker, he jerked away from him.

“Oh, where are my manners?” Lucifer suddenly tutted. “I never asked, how are you lovebirds doing?” He grinned knowingly. They both glared at him and his expression fell dramatically. “Oh no – don’t tell me you broke up. It wasn’t because of me, was it?” He placed his hand over his chest innocently.

Castiel reared back and punched him.

“Cas!” Sam exclaimed in surprise.

It looked as though Castiel was going to continue with his assault, but Lucifer threw him to the other side of the room, his expression feigned-hurt. “And here I thought we were supposed to be on the same team.” He was distracted from whatever he was about to do next as Dean entered the room, followed by Crowley.

“What the hell is going on?” Dean demanded.

“Oh, you’re who stole my dog!” Lucifer exclaimed, his gaze falling on Crowley.

Dean immediately stepped between them. “Leave him alone.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Now _that,_ I didn’t see coming.”

Castiel got to his feet, drawing Lucifer’s attention back to him. The devil’s eyes sparkled maliciously as he raised his hand.

 _“No!”_ Sam screamed, but when he snapped his fingers, nothing happened.

Lucifer’s eyebrows drew together in confusion and he spun around to see Chuck standing behind him.

“Hello, son,” Chuck greeted him softly. “You’ve changed.”

“You’ve changed.”

“Well, still... I'm really pretty much the same.”

Castiel walked over to Sam and touched his arm gingerly. “Let’s get out of here,” he muttered.

Sam nodded, gratefully following him out of the room, away from Lucifer. He couldn’t wait until this was all over.


	10. Love

The next few months were… hectic, to say the least. But they saved the world, they sent Lucifer back to Hell, and Sam felt that he could finally relax. Crowley was still coming around a lot, even though he had gotten back to ruling Hell, but given what Chuck had said, Sam decided that as long as Dean was happy, he could deal with it.

Things between him and Castiel were still on the mend, but they were getting better every day. He had times when he needed space, when the memories became too much, but most of the time he was perfectly content to have Castiel by his side.

“Hey, Cas,” he greeted him as he walked into his old room. He had been spending a lot of time in there lately, watching Netflix with Castiel, and sometimes falling asleep there. Castiel had offered to let him have the room back to himself, but Sam didn’t want to kick him out, and he hadn’t been quite ready to go back to sharing the room with the angel on a permanent basis. “Mind if I join you?”

“Of course not,” Castiel responded with a brilliant smile as he scooted over to give Sam room to sit down.

“What’re we watching?”

“ _Stranger Things…_ It’s gotten pretty good reviews.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about it. I’ve been wanting to watch it.”

“I’m already eighteen minutes into the first episode, would you like me to restart it?”

“If you don’t mind.”

He restarted the episode and Sam made himself comfortable on the bed beside him. He could definitely see why the show had gotten such good reviews, it was really good. They ended up binging most of it that night.

“I like the cop,” Sam decided as the episode ended. “You can tell he really cares a lot about the people in the town.”

Castiel nodded. “Reminds me of a couple people I know.”

Sam chuckled. “Drinks a lot and tries to save people… yeah, I guess I can see that.”

“You’re braver than he is, though,” Castiel said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah?” An amused smile turned up his lips as he turned his head to the side to look at him. “How do you reckon that?”

“You excel in situations in which no rational human should be able to function.”

“Maybe I’m not rational, then,” he teased.

“That is not what I meant. You have walked into danger so many times, faced so many horrors without hesitation…”

“He’s kind of walking into danger, too.”

“Let me finish, Sam.” Sam had to laugh at the sternness in his voice, but he shut up and let him continue. “You do so much more than step up to a fight. You knocked on Lucifer’s front door and asked for his help. I can’t think of many people who would be able to do that, especially with your history. I can’t fathom what you must have been feeling.”

Sam shook his head slightly. “It wasn’t fun, I’ll tell you that. It helped to have you there with me, though.”

“I’m glad. I was a little worried that my presence would cause more harm than good.”

“No. I don’t know if I would have been able to manage without you there.”

“I have seen the things you have managed, Sam, and I am confident that you would have been able to. But I am glad that you didn’t have to.”

“You’re pretty brave too, you know. I know that can’t have been easy for you, either.”

“Truthfully, I was more focused on you, so I didn’t pay much attention to my own discomfort.”

Sam smiled. “I appreciate it. But you need to focus on yourself some, too. How have you been doing lately?”

“Better. There’s still a lot that I’m having to cope with, but it takes less effort. And it did help to punch him.”

Sam laughed. “You terrified me when you did that, you know. I thought for sure he was going to…” He trailed off, not wanting to think about what he had thought was going to happen. Whatever Castiel was to him, he couldn’t stand the thought of losing him.

“I’m sorry I worried you. He hit a nerve.”

Sam nodded in understanding. It had been hard for him to listen to Lucifer gloat about how spectacularly he had messed up their relationship, too. And he may not have gotten to punch him, but sending the bastard back to Hell went a ways in dealing with his anger.

“You seem to be doing better, too,” Castiel noted.

“Yeah… I mean, I’ll never be completely better – the scars he left are always gonna be there – but I’m functioning somewhat-normally. It’s nice to be able to do this with you again.”

Castiel nodded in agreement. “It is.”

They were silent for a few moments, just enjoying being able to lay like this together. But something was nagging at the back of Sam’s mind. It had been there ever since Lucifer had gotten out of the cage, but it had never seemed the right time to bring it up. They were already talking about Lucifer, though, so… he might not get a better time than this.

“Cas, there’s… something I wanted to ask you about,” he began tentatively.

Castiel frowned slightly. “What is it?”

“When… when Lucifer was torturing me, he… he said that one of the reasons you said yes was because… you didn’t think I really loved you.” He looked at Castiel questioningly.

“Sam…” he began, clearly thinking over his words carefully. “It was not so much that I believed you didn’t love me, but that I thought you were in love with the idea of me. I was – am sure that you deserve better than me, and so I thought you were seeing something in me that wasn’t there…. I said yes was because I felt like a trivial member of the team and that it was the only way I could help out, and I figured that you would do better without me, anyway.”

Sam shook his head fervently. “Cas, one of the worst things I can imagine is being without you. You are so important to us – to me and Dean both – I can’t even explain how much. And I always thought _you_ deserved better than _me.”_ He sighed. “Do you still believe that I don’t know who you are?” he asked sadly.

Castiel shook his head. “No. I believe you have proven just how well you know me. I am sorry for doubting you.”

Sam nodded. “I just hate to think that I pushed you to that in any way – that if maybe I’d told you more how much you mean to me…”

“It’s in the past, Sam. And none of it was your fault. My mistakes were mine alone.”

“Still… I’ll be better about it next time. I’ll tell you every hour, if that’s what it takes.”

Castiel chuckled. “I look forward to it.”

Sam’s gaze lingered on Castiel thoughtfully. _Why put it off?_ he suddenly wondered. Things had been so much better lately, he hadn’t flinched away from him at all in a couple months now, he had fallen asleep in bed with him several times, and only rarely did it cause a negative reaction from him when he woke up (and that hadn’t happened in a while, either). Maybe it was time they tried again.

Sam’s stomach tightened nervously, but it wasn’t the nervousness he used to feel at the thought – the kind that made him feel like he was going to be sick. This nervousness was closer to excitement, his heart rate increasing slightly, pumping adrenaline through him.

“Maybe you won’t have to.”

Castiel’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… maybe we could start now?”

The same hopeful excitement that Sam was feeling sparked in Castiel’s eyes. “You’re sure?”

Sam paused just for a moment to be absolutely certain. But there was no doubt in his mind. He loved Castiel. They had worked through the worst of their issues, and whatever else was there, he knew they could get through. “Yeah,” he answered with a smile. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Castiel beamed and began to lean in slightly before he paused. “Then, is it alright if I kiss you?” he checked.

Sam’s smile grew even wider. “Yeah.”

Castiel closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against Sam’s. It was comforting and exciting all at the same time, and Sam returned the kiss enthusiastically for a minute, before pulling away. “And Cas? I love you.”

Castiel tilted his head forward, resting his forehead against Sam’s. “I love you, too,” he breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this satisfied everyone who was asking for a sequel, and instead got a ten-chapter fic. Oops! :)
> 
> I have also written a sequel one-shot about Dean and Crowley, to fill in some of the blanks about them that I wasn't able to explore in this fic. It should be posted soon.


End file.
